


Sleeping Arrangements

by pencilguin



Category: Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: Asexual Character, Cuddling & Snuggling, Early in Canon, Insomnia, Literal Sleeping Together, M/M, Pre-Canon, asexual!Stamets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-09
Updated: 2019-09-06
Packaged: 2020-08-13 21:37:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20181133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pencilguin/pseuds/pencilguin
Summary: After being in a long-distance relationship for almost two years, Hugh and Paul finally board the USS Discovery together. Despite the war, it seems like a dream come true. Until they realize that they have to face a new challenge now.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer, before I get pitchforked out of here:  
I started writing this fic literally a year ago, in August 2018, and finished the first draft in January, at the start of season 2. Otherwise, with the following developments in their relationship, I probably wouldn't have written it like this. Please don't be mad at me, and rest assured that they will eventually arrive where we meet them in season 1. 
> 
> It was quite a challenge to write this, but I'm very glad to have made it to the end.  
Special thanks go out to @Starfleet_Louvelune and @nerdqueenenterprise for their support and feedback during the writing process, and to @wolfchasing for beta reading!

**Spore drive chief engineer’s personal log, <strike>Dr.</strike> Lieutenant Paul Stamets**

**Day 0 aboard the USS Discovery**

_So, I guess this is for real now. We took off today. She’s flying. The ships that they built based on Straal’s and my designs officially started their journey today. Who knows when, or if, I’ll see Deneva or Earth again now? Maybe we’ll all die out here in the war. _

_I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to the new rank. Hopefully not. And they made me “chief engineer” but won’t even let me near the warp core. Not that I’m complaining — it’s not like I couldn’t fix a broken warp drive, probably — I mean, how hard can that be? But it gives me more time to focus on my actual work with our spore drive. _

_What else…? Lorca’s a dick… Oh, sorry. “Captain Lorca” — too bad no-one can see my air quotes in an audio recording — is an obnoxious, war-obsessed, arrogant dick and I hope he’s going to have a horrible accident within the next 24 hours. Hopefully before I have to see him again. Most of the people he assigned to my research team are painfully Starfleet and I hate it. Still, no-one has bothered to tell me what happened to my request for Cadet Sylvia Tilly. (Sighs.) I hate this place already. _

_Umm… there’s one single upside to being on this flying tin can, though… (Clears his throat.) He’s in the shower right now. I don’t know what non-existent space deities are smiling down on me, but ever since that door opened and he was standing there, I’ve been thinking that somehow, maybe everything’s going to be okay. I still can’t believe this is really happening. We… we get to be together at last. Maybe happiness is a spaceship after all._

* * *

**Personal log, day 1**

On his first morning aboard the USS Discovery, Paul Stamets awoke with a sense of complete relaxation and peace. His mind was still fuzzy from a dream, which he had already forgotten by the time his eyes slowly blinked open. As he was trying to remember the last time he felt as comfortable and well-rested as he did right now, his brain took in his surroundings and put the clues together. He was in his quarters on a Starfleet spaceship on its way towards the Klingon war, but he might as well have woken up to warm rays of sunlight and birdsong coming in through the open window of an idyllic little countryside cottage, like the one where he spent a summer vacation with his family, more than thirty years ago. He and Straal had agreed to share their work with Starfleet, who had built two ships with their technology at the cores, and now he was on one of them.

But Hugh had been there when he opened the door, and Hugh would be here with him on this whole journey. Not just long distance in video calls and maybe — if they were lucky and the stars aligned — getting the chance to meet in person once a year at best because they each had their work and their lives on opposite ends of the quadrant. No more. They were here now, both of them, flesh and blood, and Paul couldn’t wait for all of it. To have lunch dates with him or pass him in the hallways. To cuddle on the couch on their nights off while watching a movie. To brush their teeth together before bed and wake up next to Hugh every single morning.

When he turned to look over at the other side of the bed, it was empty.

A lot of panicked thoughts rushed through Paul’s head in quick succession. _Reality check, Paul_, his brain reminded itself.

_You’re definitely on a spaceship._

_The other side of the bed has definitely been slept in._

_You seem well-rested, maybe it’s really late already._

Fine, that was a good place to start.

“Computer, what time is it?”

“_It is 0627._”

Well. At least he wasn’t late for his first shift yet.

He quietly sat up and strained his ears to focus on any nearby sounds. Nothing. Carefully, he got up and looked around. He was definitely alone in the room. He checked the bathroom. It was empty, too.

_Don’t freak out_, he told himself, _I’m sure everything is fine_. It didn’t work too well. With an empty feeling that had nothing to do with his stomach demanding breakfast, he decided that he might as well get dressed and ready for his first day at work a little early.

***

The door to their quarters opened the moment Paul stepped out of the bathroom, and Hugh walked in. He was sweaty and a little out of breath, but seemed to be in high spirits otherwise, dressed in what looked like his workout gear, including a dark blue t-shirt that spelled _DISCO_ in white letters across his chest.

“Morning, honey!”

Paul pulled his eyes away from the awful shirt as Hugh walked up to him and kissed him on the cheek.

“I hope you slept well.”

“Where were you?” Paul asked, trying to sound much more casual than he was feeling.

Hugh grinned at him as he took his shoes off. “I woke up early, so I thought I’d go on my morning run and then we could have breakfast together afterwards. I hope I didn’t wake you up?”

“No,” Paul responded and forced a smile onto his face. He was being childish here and he knew it, no need to upset Hugh over it. It must have shown anyway, though, because Hugh’s expression turned into a frown.

“What’s wrong, Paul?”

“Nothing,” he tried to brush it off. Hugh raised an eyebrow and tilted his head a little. Paul sighed and attempted a more sincere smile. He _was_ happy to see Hugh now. “I guess I just missed the opportunity to wake up next to you.”

Hugh blinked at him in surprise a couple times, then chuckled — with his signature, warm laugh that felt like an embrace rather than ridicule, and Paul felt his disappointment melt away, just like that.

“Aw, I’m sorry, hun. Tomorrow, okay?”

When Paul nodded at him with a smile, he leaned over to kiss him again, wrapping his arms around Paul’s waist and pulling him close.

After their lips parted, Paul wrinkled his nose and said, “You need a shower. And you need to get rid of that ugly shirt.”

Hugh frowned at him. “‘Ugly’?”

“Yes, it’s terrible. ‘Disco’? Really?”

“Hey, it’s part of the ship’s official, Starfleet-issued workout uniform. You’ve got one, too.”

“Unbelievable,” Paul muttered. “No way am I going to wear that…”

Hugh chuckled again. “We’ll see about that. I’m gonna take a shower now.”

Paul watched him as he walked into the bathroom, yawning. At this moment, the morning was close enough to perfection for him.

* * *

**Personal log, day 2**

Paul opened his eyes to the room being almost completely dark. It had to be the middle of the night, but he couldn’t remember what had woken him. Maybe another dream that was already slipping away from his grasp. He rubbed his eyes and squinted over next to him.

Hugh was lying on his back, arms folded behind his head, and staring up at the ceiling. In the low light, Paul could just barely tell that his eyes were open.

“Hugh…?” he mumbled sleepily. “You’re awake? What’s wrong?”

Hugh’s head turned to him, and within a second, his lips formed a little smile.

“It’s nothing, boo. Just having trouble going back to sleep. You should sleep too.”

“… Okay.”

Paul scooted over a little closer to him and snuggled into Hugh’s side, where he quickly fell asleep again.

***

While they were sitting down with their breakfast in the mess hall, Hugh covered his mouth with a hand to hide a very pronounced yawn.

“Couldn’t sleep again last night?” Paul asked with a frown.

“Yeah, I… didn’t sleep too well.”

Was he avoiding Paul’s eyes…? Maybe it was just the tiredness.

* * *

**Personal log, day 3**

Paul woke up on his third day on the Discovery and was convinced that this, right here and now, had to be heaven. He was blissfully warm and cozy, wrapped in a newly familiar scent of vanilla and something spicy and a feeling of _home_, and a soft heartbeat under his cheek. After concluding that he had been sleeping with his face buried into Hugh’s chest, he slowly raised his head and peeled his eyes open, and was greeted by the sight of the brightest smile in the known universe making his morning even better. A huge grin spread across his face.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty.”

“Good morning yourself,” he responded, voice still a little raspy from sleep. He pushed himself up a bit to kiss the tip of Hugh’s nose and was rewarded with a small giggle. “No morning run today?”

“You seemed very comfortable and I didn’t want to wake you up.”

“Oh.”

“Slept well?”

“Yes! You’re an excellent pillow.” Paul’s grin softened. “But really, I’ve been sleeping better these last three nights than I have in years. It’s so much better than going to bed alone!”

Something twitched across Hugh’s face, just for a second. Paul frowned.

“But you look tired.”

“I’m fine. Just been a little restless lately, I guess.”

Paul’s brows furrowed even more.

“Is it because of me? Am I hogging too much space? Snoring? Being too clingy?”

Hugh laughed.

“No, it’s none of that — don’t worry, it’s fine. I don’t mind sharing my bed with a cute, four-limbed octopus.”

Paul felt his cheeks heat up and mumbled, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I couldn’t be happier that you’re here with me. Besides, I’ve grown very fond of your wiggling.”

In response, Paul wiggled his eyebrows at him, and Hugh burst into laughter before he kissed him again.


	2. Chapter 2

**Personal log, day 4**

“Hugh, are you okay?”

“Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because that’s your fourth cup of coffee today and you’ve barely been awake for an hour.”

“No, it’s not. It’s my second.”

“In the mess hall, yeah. But you’ve already had two cups from the replicator back in our quarters. Don’t think I didn’t notice.”

Paul was watching Hugh intently across the table. The fact that he had barely touched the rest of his breakfast and already skipped his morning run two days in a row (which Paul knew he usually followed religiously) with some weak excuse only added to his concern. Hugh looked down into his mug and said nothing. Paul sighed.

“Please tell me what’s wrong, Hugh.”

Finally, he looked up.

“I’m not sleeping well.”

“That I noticed.”

“I’ve barely been able to sleep at all over the last days.”

“Do you know why?”

There was a beat of silence.

“Yes.”

Hugh took a deep breath and Paul braced himself.

“It’s because — well, it’s me. I can’t — I can’t sleep when there’s… shit.” He nervously ran a hand through his short hair. “I can’t sleep well with someone else in my bed.”

Paul’s face fell. Something stung underneath his ribs.

“It’s not your fault, it has nothing to do with you, it’s just — it’s always been like this, all of my life. I thought this time — I, I don’t know, I had hoped that — that _we_ would be different, that maybe I can get used to it… But it hasn’t worked so far.”

Paul tried to contain his disappointment but clearly was doing a poor job, because when Hugh dared to face him again, his expression grew even more painful.

“I… shit, I’m so sorry, Paul.”

“No…” He swallowed. “Thank you for being honest. But… I don’t know what to say right now.”

“No, that’s not what I meant,” Hugh responded. “I’m sorry for digging us into this hole in the first place. I knew this — I should have known this would happen, I shouldn’t have requested to be transferred here, to share quarters. I should have just requested my own instead. I was stupid and selfish and now I’ve probably hurt you, even though I’d sworn never to do that. And I’m sorry, and I wish I could make you see how truly sorry I am.”

Paul opened his mouth to speak but no words came to him. He felt like the bottom of his stomach had just disappeared.

A notification blinked on Hugh’s PADD and he sighed at it in frustration.

“Shit… I have to get to work. We — I shouldn’t have dumped all of this on you over breakfast like this… Can we — can we talk later?”

Paul looked at him with a forced smile he wasn’t feeling and nodded.

“Okay.”

“I’m really sorry, Paul,” Hugh repeated. “I love you.”

With this, he got up and left the mess hall. Paul followed a few minutes later, with Hugh’s last three words playing over and over inside his head being the only thing that kept him going throughout the rest of his day.

***

“Knock, knock?” Paul asked carefully, peeking in from the passageway to their bathroom in his pajamas.

Hugh smiled at him; softly, but looking so tired it was painful to watch. He had already settled down in their bed while Paul had been in the bathroom. His day in engineering had simply refused to end, one failure following another, and with Lorca in between, making very clear how displeased he was with Paul’s lack of progress on the spore drive. So they hadn’t been able to talk since breakfast.

“Can I come in?”

“Of course. Sorry again for this morning. That was a mess.”

“Stop apologizing,” Paul said as he sat down on the bed, and pulled his bare feet up next to him. “So… what are we going to do now? Do you know of anything that helps, even if it’s just a little bit?”

“No… I’m afraid not.”

“Do you want me to sleep on the couch? I can do that.”

“Oh, no, Paul,” Hugh responded immediately. “I don’t want you to sleep on the couch. And you don’t want that either, trust me.”

“You know,” Paul said, after a moment of thinking in silence, “my grandparents on my father’s side always slept in two separate bedrooms for their entire lives after they got married. They seemed to be perfectly happy with it. And they still had four kids.”

Hugh raised an eyebrow at him.

“I’m just saying…” Dread bloomed in the pit of Paul’s stomach. Separate rooms were about the last thing he wanted from here on out. “But… we can’t just go on like this.”

Hugh sighed.

“I know. And I know I said we need to talk, but… can we not do that now? I’m just really exhausted.”

Paul smiled at him sympathetically.

“Of course.”

He settled under the blanket and then opened his arms as an invitation to Hugh.

“Come here.”

So Hugh made himself comfortable on his chest, and Paul wrapped his arms around him, hoping to finally calm some of his restless energy.

“Computer, lights to night setting,” Hugh mumbled and closed his eyes. As the darkness enveloped them, he addressed Paul. “You know this isn’t going to work.”

“But I can try anyway.”

He kissed the top of Hugh’s head, and started gently rubbing his arm to comfort him. After a while, he quietly began to sing.

“_Live in my house, I’ll be your shelter. Just pay me back with one thousand kisses. Be my lover, I’ll cover you…_”

Hugh started humming along, and they shared the song and this moment until Paul fell asleep.

* * *

**Personal log, day 5**

Paul felt bad the next day because he had been the first to fall asleep again, while Hugh went through another restless night of lying awake and staring into the dark (although he commented that Paul made a very comfortable pillow).

He had suggested that Hugh could use his lunch break for a power nap, but hadn’t even been able to finish his sentence before Hugh went off at him, saying that “power naps are not valid,” to which Paul raised his hands in defense and responded that he was “just saying” and that “poor sleep is still better than no sleep.”

So they had agreed to have lunch together instead.

After ten minutes of sitting around and waiting alone in the mess hall, Paul got up and got himself something to eat. Once he’d sat down with his tray, he checked his PADD again. Still no message from Hugh. This was unusual. _Maybe he’s too busy_, Paul thought. _Maybe an emergency’s come up and he hasn’t had time to send a message yet. Maybe he’s in the middle of saving a life right now._

After fifteen minutes, he started eating, alone.

After twenty minutes, he sent a message to Hugh, asking him if everything was okay.

After thirty minutes, and still no response, he left. Outside the mess hall he thought about going to medbay right away, but then decided against it. Either Hugh was there, and Paul would be bothering him while he was at work, which he didn’t want. Or Hugh wasn’t there, in which case the place would be full of medical staff, which he usually preferred to avoid at all costs. Either way, Paul would probably make a fool of himself and look most unprofessional, and he didn’t want to give any of these other people on the ship any more ammunition against him.

***

In the end, he ultimately ended his shift earlier than planned, because the lack of communication from Hugh fueled his worries to the point where he was no longer able to concentrate on his work.

He checked the time. Hugh’s shift wasn’t over yet.

_Oh, what the hell._

He made his way towards the direction of the sickbay.

***

The sickbay doors slid open and Paul was uncomfortably aware of several pairs of eyes turning their attention towards him. He straightened up, steeled himself, and looked around.

Hugh wasn’t there.

He approached one of the nurses standing closest to the door, who didn’t seem too occupied at the moment.

“I’m looking for Doctor Culber.”

The nurse eyed him with a reserved expression.

“Doctor Culber isn’t here. Can I help you?”

“I’m not here for a medical issue. I’d like to speak to him.” Paul tried to keep his face and his voice as emotionless as possible despite the fact that this nurse was already annoying him greatly. “Can you tell me where he is?”

“No, I’m afraid not,” the nurse replied coldly. “Our doctors’ private affairs are none of your business, _Lieutenant_.”

Paul glared at him. Yes, he might have yelled at someone the first time he had to come down to sickbay on the Discovery. He tried to remember if it had been this guy or if he had just heard the gossip that had been spread about Paul, but came up empty.

“Well, _I_ have private affairs to discuss with him, and they’re kind of urgent, so I’d like to know where I can find him.”

They glared at each other for a few seconds, each refusing to give in. Then one of the doctors approached the nurse, requiring his attention.

“I’m not at liberty to tell you anything. If you have an issue with that, take it up to the CMO,” he finally said and turned his back, leaving Paul standing there.

Paul pursed his lips and walked towards the other end of the room, where he saw the CMO looking through a patient’s file. He took a deep breath to calm down his temper before he addressed her.

“Excuse me, Doctor?”

She looked up from her file, only mildly surprised, it seemed, to see him here.

“Yes, Lieutenant Stamets?”

“I’m looking for Doctor Culber. He should still be on shift but I’ve been informed that he’s not here. Can you tell me where to find him?”

She regarded him for a moment, her expression hard to read. Was it concern? Paul felt heat rising to his cheeks. She appeared to be at least ten years older than him, and there was this air of authority and wisdom about her that made him feel slightly uncomfortable under her scrutiny. He cleared his throat.

“I — he was supposed to meet me for lunch, but he didn’t show up, and hasn’t responded to my messages,” he awkwardly tried to explain himself, reluctant to give away too many personal details.

With a small sigh, the CMO responded, “I’ve known Hugh for many years, he’s an old friend of mine and I was his mentor back in the academy. He told me about the two of you, Lieutenant.”

Paul’s eyes widened in surprise at this information, but he was also relieved that he wouldn’t have to explain much else to her. Hopefully she’d be more cooperative than the nurse.

“I sent him home to get some rest, because he fell asleep in our break room three hours into his shift.”

_What?_

His jaw dropped open, but he didn’t know what to say.

“He didn’t want to tell me what’s wrong, only that he hasn’t been sleeping well since we took off. He said a soporific didn’t help.”

Paul was still grasping for words. Unable to come up with any other response, he only said quietly, “Thank you, Doctor.”

At that, her expression turned a little softer, but also a little sad.

“I’m not going to ask you if this has anything to do with you. But if there’s something you can do to help him, you really should do that.”

Paul nodded slowly, with a lump in his throat, and then walked out of sickbay.

***

Back in their quarters, he found Hugh lying in bed, sleeping soundly. He couldn’t help a sad smile. It was, he realized, the first time he actually saw Hugh sleeping, and it was a beautiful sight.

As quietly as possible, he changed into his pajamas, picked up his pillow and blanket, and went to sleep on the couch.

* * *

**Personal log, day 6**

The moment Paul woke up he could tell that something wasn’t right. Despite a long night of deep sleep, he didn’t feel refreshed or well-rested, but more like a rock that hadn’t moved in centuries, so rusty and withered that he would crumble the moment he tried to get up. As he opened his eyes and tried to raise his head, a sharp pain shot through his neck and shoulders.

“Oww f—”

This was bad bad bad, it felt like every single bone and muscle in his body painfully made its presence known, and as he winced and took in his surroundings he had to concede that Hugh had been right: He was getting too old to sleep on couches, no matter how comfortable they appeared to be in the evening. He dragged himself to his feet and tried to stretch, joints cracking painfully with every movement.

Meanwhile, Hugh was waking up as well. His yawning and stretching sounded far happier and more energetic than Paul’s.

“Good morning, mushroom!” he said cheerfully as he sat up in their bed.

Paul tried to mumble something in response but was interrupted by a painful pop in his neck that derailed his morning greeting into a stream of mostly unintelligible profanities.

“Oh Paul, did you sleep on the couch?” Hugh asked sympathetically as he noticed Paul’s bedclothes on their sofa.

“I didn’t want to risk waking you up again yesterday,” Paul explained through gritted teeth while rubbing his neck in an attempt to make the pain go away. “Did you sleep better this time?”

Hugh looked down guiltily.

“Yeah…” He watched Paul sadly for a moment, then said, “Come here, let me help you,” and gestured for him to sit down on the bed. Paul did as he was told, and after he sat down at the edge of the bed Hugh wrapped his arms around him from behind and kissed his cheek. Then he started massaging Paul’s neck and shoulders to help ease the pain.

“I don’t want to go all ‘I told you so,’ you know, but I did warn you about the couch.”

“I know,” Paul grumbled, the massage already making him relax a little. “I went looking for you in sickbay yesterday, after you didn’t show up for lunch and didn’t answer my texts. Your CMO told me what happened and asked me to help you. I didn’t want to take any chances and disturb your sleep again.” He hoped there was no hint of hurt or accusation in his tone, because he didn’t want to put this on Hugh, to imply that his insomnia was Paul’s fault. He had said that it had nothing to do with him and Paul kept reminding himself of that, kept reminding himself to believe Hugh, because they had agreed, from the start, to always be honest with each other. And that had been the best foundation for a relationship that Paul had ever had, and he never wanted to lose it again.

“Sorry I didn’t tell you that I couldn’t make it to our lunch date and made you worry. I was so tired that I forgot to text you, and then I slept for almost twenty hours.”

“Sounds like you had a lot of sleep to catch up on.”

“I guess. How did you sleep? Aside from, well,” he squeezed Paul’s shoulder a little, “this?”

Paul hesitated. “Not… great.” Hugh was already in full “concerned doctor” mode. No need to make it worse. “But,” he said, before Hugh could pick his statement apart, “You were able to sleep even with me in the room, right? It’s just about sharing the bed?”

Even without looking at him, Paul could tell that he was frowning.

“Yes. I’ve had roommates before, back in academy housing and the likes, and after a bit of getting used to it, that was fine. But if you’re suggesting—”

“We can at least try,” Paul interrupted him, “for a few more nights.”

“But what about _your_ sleep, Paul?”

He turned around to look at Hugh, the pain thankfully gone now.

“I’ll try to make the couch more comfortable. And if it really doesn’t work, we’ll think of something else. Hugh, please.”

At last, he sighed.

“Fine.”

* * *

**Personal log, day 7**

The second night on the couch didn’t go any better than the first. In fact, Paul felt, it was even worse. Despite Hugh’s amazing massage, he still felt the aftereffects of it during his shift in engineering, and at the end of the day, he was more exhausted than usual because even without the pain, sleeping alone on the couch wasn’t nearly as nice and restful as sleeping next to Hugh.

***

When he walked out of the bathroom in his pajamas that evening, the first thing Paul noticed was that Hugh had apparently moved his bedclothes from the couch back to the bed.

“What’s going on here…?” he asked hesitantly.

“Simple,” Hugh replied. “We’re not going to suffer through you sleeping on the couch again. You won’t have to endure another night of pain, and I won’t have to endure another morning of you complaining about it.”

Paul frowned at Hugh, which seemed to amuse him, because a warm smile spread across his face. He patted the other side of the bed expectantly.

“I’m waiting.”

“But—” Paul began, but Hugh’s eyes narrowed.

“Paul Stamets, if you sleep on the couch one more night you will not be getting any more neck massages from me afterwards. Do you really think you can handle the aftermath on your own?”

Finally Paul sighed, although he wasn’t above trying to make it sound as pained as possible.

“Fine.”

“Yes!”

As soon as he lay down on the bed, Hugh just flopped down on top of him, grinning.

“Hello there, stranger. Haven’t seen you around in a while. Do you come here often?”

Paul raised an eyebrow at him.

“You’re not being very subtle.”

“Subtle doesn’t seem to work on you, so what am I supposed to do?”

Paul was more than happy to abandon the couch in a heartbeat. And oh, how he had missed this. How could it merely have been a week? It felt like a lifetime, like it was always meant to be this way: them, together.

“I don’t like the couch. I missed you. But I don’t want to hurt you, and I’m afraid that’s what I’m doing.”

“You’re not.”

Hmm, and he couldn’t get enough of kissing Hugh, either. There should be more hours in the day, just for that.

“We could,” Hugh then said slowly, pondering, “request quarters with two separate beds. Would that be an option for you?”

“It could work…” Paul’s brows furrowed. “But I don’t want to go to Lorca about this.”

“Yeah, me neither… I think we could talk to Saru, though. Tomorrow?”

“Okay,” Paul said with a smile.

“And until all that’s arranged, you’re back in this bed for now, and I use you as a pillow while I get a lot of reading done.”

Paul grinned.

“Are you going to stay there all night?”

“If I have to pin you to the bed with my own weight to stop you from torturing yourself with the couch again then that’s exactly what I’m going to do.”

“Oh no, how rude. This is unacceptable behavior. How am I going to endure it?” Paul said, failing miserably at the attempt to keep a straight face.

“You’ll live,” Hugh simply responded and then leaned down to kiss him again.

After they parted, Paul asked once more, “Are you really sure about this? You’re going to feel terrible in the morning. Shouldn’t we…”

“Paul, we’ve been through this how many times now? You’re not going back to the couch. And unlike you, I’m actually smart enough to know that I don’t want to sleep there, either. Besides, I miss lying next to you, too. We’ll figure out what we can do about our quarters in the morning. Now shush and let me cuddle with you.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before you yell at me for this, please re-read the disclaimer at the beginning of the fic.

**Personal log, day 8**

“Commander Saru, may I talk to you for a second?”

Paul had managed to catch Saru as he left the bridge and was on his way to the turbolift.

“Of course, Lieutenant Stamets,” he said with his usual, calm demeanor. “What can I do for you?”

“It’s, well, it’s about Hu… about Doctor Culber and my quarters, actually.”

Just the hint of a surprise showed on his Kelpien features, but aside from that, his aura of calm remained. Paul still felt awkward and, judging by the heat in his cheeks, was probably blushing. Which he hated, as always.

“Due to — to medical reasons, we would like to request moving into quarters with two separate beds. If that is possible.”

He still found Saru’s expression difficult to read. There seemed to be no judgment in it, at least, and Paul was grateful for that. Talking to strangers — which Saru still was, and Starfleet, no less, human or not — about any private matters always made him uncomfortable.

“I will check our ship’s records and see what I can do for you, Lieutenant.”

“Thank you, Commander.”

“Is there anything else?”

“No, that is all. Good night.”

“Good night to you, too.”

* * *

**Personal log, day 9**

Paul was just about to step into their quarters at the end of the day when he spotted Saru’s tall, lean figure turning the corner and walking up to him.

“Commander,” Paul greeted him politely.

“Lieutenant Stamets.” He inclined his head a little to return the greeting. “I wanted to speak to you about your request.”

Paul stepped back and gestured to invite him inside while placing his other hand on the scanner. “Come in. Doctor Culber should be home, too.” Then he followed Saru into his quarters.

Hugh must have just gotten home recently as well, because he hadn’t changed out of his uniform yet.

“Commander Saru?” He placed the PADD he had been reading on the table and stood up. The door closed behind Paul and muted the sounds from the corridor, providing them with some privacy.

“Good evening, Doctor Culber,” Saru said. Then he addressed them both. “I looked into our current rooming options as you requested. Unfortunately, we do not have any available quarters with two individual beds left.”

Paul’s heart sank. He cast a quick glance at Hugh, but his face remained remarkably neutral. Maybe Hugh had been right, and this whole stunt had really been a bad idea. That thought hurt.

“All I can offer you,” Saru continued, and Paul turned his attention back to him, “is entirely separate quarters. One of you can stay here, of course, and the other can get his own.”

This time, they both looked at each other. Paul could only assume that the questioning frown on Hugh’s face was a mirror of his own expression. A nonverbal conversation, asking: _What now?_

“You don’t have to decide right away,” Saru said after a moment. “If you would like to discuss it between you, I will make a note in the ship’s records to hold the room for you, and you can let me know once you’ve made your decision.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Paul saw Hugh looking at him again and turned his head. Hugh gave a slight nod, which he returned.

“Thank you, Commander Saru,” Hugh said. “We will.”

Saru gave another small nod. Paul escorted him to the door.

“Thank you for your efforts, Commander. We appreciate it.”

“Do not mention it. Good night, Lieutenant. Doctor Culber.”

After Saru left and the door closed next to Paul, Hugh let out an exhausted groan and let himself fall backwards onto the bed.

“Shit.”

Paul swallowed, looking down. Then he slowly stepped over to the bed where Hugh was still lying, arms spread out, staring up at the ceiling and looking utterly defeated.

“Opinions?” Hugh asked.

Paul battled with himself for a moment, trying to rein in the stream of horrendously selfish thoughts flushing through his brain. There was no use being childish now, Hugh hated this just as much as he did, if not even more. He didn’t want to be separated from Hugh, but the — annoyingly well-developed — rational part of his brain knew that it was their only real option. And he dreaded the couch.

“I shouldn’t have joined Starfleet,” he finally said flatly, then sat down on the bed beside Hugh.

“Then we’d still be lightyears apart from each other. At least we’re on the same ship now.”

“I hate it when you’re so smart.”

“That’s not true. You love it.”

A grin tugged at the corner of Paul’s mouth.

“Okay, maybe you’re right.”

He started to pull off his boots. Meanwhile, Hugh closed his eyes and sighed.

“Paul?”

“Mhm?”

“Please tell me there’s another option.”

“Unless one of us sleeps on the floor…”

“Not gonna happen.”

“… Then I’m afraid we have no choice.”

Hugh took a few more deep breaths, his eyes still closed.

“This sucks.”

Paul kicked off his boots and unzipped his jacket, then crawled onto the bed to lie down on his belly next to Hugh, propped himself up on his elbows, and looked at him. He felt compelled to take in his partner’s features carefully, to remember him and this moment and everything between them, as if there was a chance he might never see him again once they parted.

“We can,” he said pensively, “still spend time together, of course. Just like we’ve done up until now. It’s only for sleeping.” He wondered if his tone would convince Hugh at all, considering how little he himself was feeling those nice and sensible words on the inside. Judging by the look Hugh gave him, probably not.

“I know. That doesn’t mean I like it.”

The tiredness seeping through his features at that statement apparently was the shove Paul had needed. This was for the sake of Hugh’s health; surely they could make this small sacrifice in exchange for that. He found himself smiling.

“Don’t worry, my dear doctor. You’re not going to get rid of me that easily.” To prove his point, he leaned over and kissed him, again finding himself trying to memorize everything — this moment, this feeling, this taste — as well as trying to pour into it everything he didn’t know how to say because, as was so often the case when it came to Hugh, words failed him. And just like every time before, it was never long enough.

Hugh furrowed his brows and mumbled, “So it’s decided, then?”

It took Paul a few seconds after this moment, to get his previous determination back, but he finally answered with a firm “Yes.”

“Okay,” Hugh whispered, lightly tracing Paul’s jaw with his fingertips, and Paul leaned into the soft touch, soaking in all the affection he could get.

“I’ll take the other room,” he said quietly after a while. “You can stay here.”

“Are you sure? These are your quarters officially, I just invited myself in.”

Paul nodded. He chose not to tell him that he dreaded the idea of Hugh’s ghost — his scent, the memory of him in here — constantly reminding him of what he couldn’t have. Maybe fresh quarters would make it easier for him. He’d slept alone before for years, it shouldn’t be such a big deal… right?

“I’ll tell Saru,” he said and got up.

***

With his bag slung over his shoulder, Paul was standing in the middle of the room.

“So…”

He swallowed, his eyes avoiding Hugh and darting nervously across the room, trying to find something, anything, to buy them some more time, to delay the inevitable.

“I guess this is ‘good night’, then?” Finally, he glanced up nervously at Hugh, with his eyebrows drawn together and an insecure little smile. “See you tomorrow?”

Hugh stepped closer, and his smile was all warmth and fondness and a tiny bit sad.

“Tomorrow. Before breakfast.”

Hugh reached out for his arms and pulled him close for a goodbye kiss, and Paul lost all of his carefully crafted composure. His bag dropped to the floor next to him as he wrapped his arms around Hugh and desperately poured himself into the kiss.

_No no no no. Don’t stop. Don’t let this end. Don’t let me walk out that door. Please don’t._

He didn’t want to let go. He didn’t want to leave. If he walked out now, what would happen to _them_? What if that was the beginning of the end?

_Don’t be childish now, Paul_, said the voice of reason inside his head.

He thought of all the sacrifices Hugh had made for _him_, and felt guilt pooling in his stomach at how selfish he was being. He didn’t really have any other choice, did he? Trust Hugh. Take a leap of faith. Be part of the solution, not part of the problem. Maybe this could work. Maybe their future was them, together, after all.

Still, when they finally parted, the gravity of it was almost too much. Paul kept his eyes closed, leaned his forehead against Hugh’s. He felt the need to say something, but none of the words at his disposal seemed appropriate to convey it. When he felt Hugh’s fingers touch his chin and dip his head up lightly he finally opened his eyes.

“This isn’t final, darling,” Hugh whispered. “We’ll see how it works, and if it doesn’t, we can always go back. Okay?”

How he managed to sound so reassuring, so comforting, Paul didn’t know. Slowly, he nodded.

“Okay.”

He picked up his bag and walked towards the door. When he reached it, he stopped and turned around once more.

“Good night, honey. Sleep well.”

“You too, mushroom.”

And with a heavy heart, he left.

***

Following Saru’s instructions, Paul quickly found the room. It wasn’t actually that far away, which was a small comfort at least.

He set his bag down and regarded his new quarters. A double bed. The corner of his mouth twitched. He wasn’t sure if he liked the option for company it still provided, or hated the constant reminder that he was sleeping alone when he wasn’t supposed to.

The emptiness of the room was crushing him. In an attempt to distract himself, he picked up his bag and started to unpack. After he was done and his bag was stowed, he went to get himself ready for bed.

Returning from the bathroom in his Starfleet-issued pajamas, he lingered for a moment, just standing there, before he let himself fall down on the bed. Objectively, it was just as soft and comfortable as the one in the other room, but right now, objectivity eluded him, and the bed felt cold and empty, the room too quiet and too clinical, too much Starfleet and not enough home. How could one person’s presence make such a world of a difference? The Paul Stamets from two years ago would laugh in his face if he saw him now, being a pathetic, sappy mess. Still, today’s Paul wouldn’t want to trade places with him for anything. Would he be able to channel the old Paul’s indifference to his own loneliness, the comfort in solitude that he had built up over the years?

He rolled onto his side, facing away from the empty space on the bed next to him, and stared at the wall in the dark. Trying not to think about Hugh proved to be a hopeless endeavor. Paul had forgotten that it was possible to miss someone so much; actually wasn’t sure if he ever had. He felt like their relationship had failed. Like _he_ had failed. Maybe the two of them just didn’t _work_ in person, long-term, maybe this was never meant to be more than a long-distance thing; two good friends who just had to overcome their massive mutual crushes and accept their fate.

While he was lying in bed and moping, the PADD on his nightstand dinged. He reached over to check it. It was a message from Hugh.

_This sucks. I wish you were here._

A sad little smile found its way to his lips. Hugh missed him, too. He typed his response.

_Me too._

Paul put the PADD back and curled up into his blanket. He felt like a stupid, silly child for wanting to cry himself to sleep because he felt like he had failed Hugh, but he couldn’t help it. Even scientists’ brains had the capacity to be overwhelmingly irrational at times. He tried to will his mind to go blank, to not think about anything and allow sleep to claim him, but many hours of staring at dark walls passed before he finally fell into a restless sleep that was riddled with elusive nightmares of rejection, loss, and drifting apart.

* * *

**Personal log, day 10**

The moment the door slid open, Paul threw himself at Hugh with a full-body hug and pressed his lips against Hugh’s with so much momentum that Hugh stumbled a few steps backwards into his quarters, though he still managed to wrap his arms firmly around Paul to hold him in place even without his feet touching the ground. At that moment, Paul didn’t care how desperate or needy he appeared, and if the enthusiasm with which Hugh returned his kiss was any indication, then it was very much a mutual feeling.

Eventually they had to pull apart to catch their breath, and Hugh sat down on the bed with Paul still clinging to him and feeling far too happy in his arms to let go anytime soon.

“Good morning to you, too, mushroom,” he said with a wide grin and oh gosh, Paul was so in love. Instead of struggling clumsily for words, he just kissed Hugh again, with less force this time but just as much passion.

“That was the longest night since we’ve boarded this ship,” he murmured as they finally parted again. “I thought it’d never end.”

Hugh laughed softly. “I know, right?” He studied Paul’s face for a few moments before he asked, “How did you sleep?”

Paul bit his lip. The honest answer was “terrible,” but he could hardly tell Hugh that, could he? He would just have to get used to the new — old — situation. Maybe it would take a few days, but it wasn’t like he hadn’t been able to sleep alone just fine for years. Still, he couldn’t bring himself to lie to Hugh.

“I’ve slept better,” he responded with a pained smile.

Hugh’s smile turned sad.

“Yeah, me too.” When Paul raised his eyebrows he added, “I kept thinking about you. I was worried if you’d be okay.”

Paul’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “I thought you’re the one we’re supposed to worry about here,” he mumbled. “Did it help you?”

Hugh hesitated for a few moments before he sighed and said, “A little. I need to readjust again, too. We’ll get there.” He placed a soft kiss on Paul’s forehead before he continued, “But there’s no point in this if I can sleep better now and you don’t.”

“I’ll manage. It’s not like I haven’t slept alone for years until two weeks ago.”

Hugh smiled, soft and warm, while stroking Paul’s back comfortingly. He opened his mouth to say something when a low rumble sounded between them. Hugh’s cheeks turned slightly pink and Paul chuckled.

“Sounds like someone’s hungry.”

“Yeah… Maybe we could go and get breakfast now.”

Paul smiled and kissed him again. Then he climbed off Hugh’s lap and offered his hand to pull him up.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some bullshit treknobabble in this one. I apologize if it doesn't make sense.

**Personal log, day 11**

If Paul was being honest, the second night apart didn’t go any better than the first. Worse, actually, since he went to bed more tired than he had been the night before. It took such a toll on his mood the next day that he wasn’t entirely able to keep it out of his interactions with his lab team. He hated sleeping alone when he knew that Hugh was near, and that he should have been able to sleep next to him instead. He could try to reason with his brain all night long, it still refused to let him rest.

He had tried to keep his crabby mood away from Hugh that night, at least — but must have been less successful at it than he had hoped, if Hugh’s face as they were about to say good night had been any indication.

“I can tell you’re not taking this well,” Hugh finally said with concern in his voice, watching as Paul picked up his uniform jacket and pulled it back on. “Even if you’re trying to hide it.”

Paul avoided his eyes while he zipped up the jacket.

“You can say it, you know. Don’t keep it bottled up when something bothers you.”

He took a deep breath and looked at Hugh.

“What good does it do if I tell you that I can’t sleep because I think about you all night? That I miss you, your presence, feeling your heartbeat, hearing your steady breathing even when you’re not asleep, your smell, your warmth? That I feel selfish for not being able to readjust to sleeping alone?” He felt his cheeks flush again, feeling guilty and stupid for doing precisely what Hugh had asked him not to do: Make this about him, and guilt-trip Hugh into feeling bad for something he had no control over.

Hugh pulled him into a silent embrace. Eventually, Paul hugged back, his hands slightly stroking Hugh’s back. After a while, Hugh said, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” Paul muttered into his shoulder. “I should be handling this better.” He pulled back a little, steeled himself, and looked at Hugh again. “If this is how our relationship has to be, then we’ll make it work. That doesn’t mean it can’t be good, right? We’ll just have to figure out how to do this.”

Hugh smiled weakly, still looking sad and defeated, and it was breaking Paul’s heart.

“Okay.”

Paul raised a hand to the side of Hugh’s face and gently stroked his cheek.

“I won’t let you be alone and miserable. I’ll do everything I can to make you as happy as you deserve to be.”

Hugh swallowed, looking close to tears.

“Thank you, Paul,” he whispered. “For not letting me go.”

“I might be very stupid sometimes when it comes to relationships, but I’m not stupid enough to do that,” Paul responded with a little grin.

Hugh let go of him and wiped at his eyes.

“You should probably go now, though. It’s pretty late. But—” He chuckled quietly. “Since you listed all the things you miss about me, maybe this will help a little.”

Paul stared at him as he took off his shirt and then held it out to him.

“Really?” he said with his eyebrows flying up, slowly taking the shirt out of Hugh’s hand. “You take your shirt off and then expect me to leave?”

Hugh laughed, blushing just a little bit.

“This should… have enough of my smell on it. Take it with you for comfort?”

“That’s so cliché,” Paul said dryly.

“If you don’t want it…” Hugh reached for the shirt again but Paul retreated and pressed it close to his chest.

“No. I’ll take it.”

Hugh laughed again, closed the distance between them and kissed him.

Needless to say, they found a way to delay Paul’s departure a little further.

***

Back in his separate quarters and about to go to sleep, Paul picked Hugh’s shirt up again. His scent lingered. Paul buried his face in the soft fabric and breathed in. The intensity with which it hit him made him feel slightly dizzy. It also caused an unpleasant, tugging pain in his chest.

After a moment of hesitation, Paul stripped out of his own pajama shirt and tossed it onto the other side of the bed, then put on Hugh’s shirt. As he climbed into bed he still wasn’t sure if this was a good idea or not, but decided that it was unlikely to be much worse than the two nights before.

This was still a far cry from actually snuggling up to Hugh, but eventually, he fell into a restless sleep.

* * *

**Personal log, day 12**

With a loud sigh that did a poor job of hiding his frustration, Paul extracted the empty spore container from the main console on his desk and placed it back on the storage rack behind him while the rest of his team were wrapping up their work. After a long series of dissatisfying test jumps that had led to Lorca throwing sharp words into Paul’s face and subtly threatening his entire team, he had dismissed them for the rest of the evening because, dammit, no matter what he thought of Starfleet personnel in general, they deserved this even less than him. He sat down and ran a hand through his hair, not looking forward to the long night of writing reports and trying to find the errors in his code that had caused every single failure. At least Hugh had the night shift today anyway, so Paul was in no hurry to be anywhere else.

Some time after he had started sifting through the calculations he had fed the computer, a video call came in. It was from the Glenn.

“Hey, _Lieutenant_!” Straal called cheerfully, irony as always more than obvious in the wiggle of his eyebrows.

“Shut up, Straal.”

“Whoa, whoa — what crawled up your ass and died?” he retorted as Paul shot him a deadly glare. “I just wanted to check in to hear how my competition’s doing.”

Paul took a deep breath.

“Sorry, Straal. You’ve got poor timing.”

“Good night, Lieutenant,” the last ensign said to him in passing as she left the lab. Paul gave a brief nod in acknowledgment, then turned his attention back to Straal’s image in front of him, who was now raising his eyebrows, waiting for an explanation.

“Your ‘competition’ just received a less than friendly reminder about an hour ago that they are the sole reason the Federation is going to lose the war against the Klingons.”

“Oh, lovely,” Straal responded dryly. “Lorca’s at it again?”

“I can’t believe I’ve ended up serving under the most obnoxious and infuriating captain in the entire history of Starfleet.”

“Why was he mad at you this time?” Straal actually sounded sympathetic now, which Paul was surprisingly grateful for in his current state.

“Because none of our tests today succeeded,” he said with a sigh. “No matter what I try, every single time we run into a glitch in the spore transfer matrix and it won’t encompass the entire ship. One of our tests fried ten percent of the hull circuits and nearly damaged the shield generator. Lorca was almost foaming at the mouth. I just started diving into the code to find the cause and then you called.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes shut in a feeble attempt to will his headache to go away. Unsurprisingly, it had no effect at all. His work wasn’t going anywhere, errors kept popping up that shouldn’t even _be_ there at the stage where they were conducting actual field tests. Lorca kept breathing down his neck and bullying him every chance he got to put him under even more pressure, as if he thought he could scare the laws of quantum physics into doing his bidding. Not to mention Paul hadn’t gotten any decent sleep in the last three days. He had been looking forward to Hugh’s presence on the ship helping him put up with Starfleet, had hoped that having Hugh by his side might center him.

“… Paul?”

“Huh?” He squinted at the projection of his friend’s face. It frowned back at him.

“I said you can send them over to me and I’ll help you look through it.” His frown retained its intensity, but it softened slightly. “Are you okay, Paul? You look terrible.”

“They’re on the shared server. Go wild.”

Paul leaned onto his elbows and ran both hands through his hair.

“This is a disaster. Justin, I don't know what to do.”

“What’s wrong? Is this because of Lorca?”

“No… Not just because of him, at least.” He hesitated. “I… apologize for being so dismissive of your relationship with Amelia for all these years. I was… probably being unfair, and not very supportive.”

Straal pointedly raised an eyebrow at that.

“What happened that you’re suddenly seeking atonement from me?” A second later, his eyes widened. “Are you having relationship troubles?”

Paul buried his face in his hands, muffling his voice as he said, “No. Yes. No…” Straal said nothing, waiting for him to continue. “Not really.” He struggled with his words for a moment, pondering his options for digging himself out of the corner his mouth had maneuvered him into, before concluding that the best solution was probably to be honest with Straal and get it over with. “It turns out Hugh can’t sleep when he has to share the bed. So we currently have separate quarters for the night. But,” he let out another frustrated sigh, leaning back and letting his shoulders fall, “turns out I can no longer sleep when he’s not next to me.”

“Oh,” was all that came out of Straal’s mouth for several seconds, staring at Paul, dumbfounded. Then an unexpectedly soft grin spread across his face. “You’re _really_ attached to him. I didn’t think you had it in you.”

Paul just glared in silence.

“So let me guess: You feel bad for depending on him, because you think you’d physically hurt him with that. So you end up sleeping even worse and being crabby all day.”

Paul’s eyes narrowed even further. He knew his face was obvious to read right now, but he wouldn’t grant Straal the satisfaction of admitting he was right.

“It’s probably why you can’t focus on your work,” Straal continued, now appearing to be scrolling through pages of data offscreen. “Your most recent code fixes are all over the place, no wonder none of this worked.”

“I _know_…” Paul’s voice trailed off as he rubbed a hand across his face again.

“You should probably talk to him, you know,” Straal said after a while. “Tell him about this, even if you think you can’t do it out of some desperate attempt to ‘protect’ him.”

“I know. And I bet he knows already anyway.”

“Probably. Subtlety has never been one of your strengths.”

“Why do I even talk to you?”

Straal smirked. “You just can’t handle the truth.”

A minute of silence passed between them, with Straal working his way through Paul’s messy code and Paul staring into the distance, trying to sort his feelings into the right words to say to Hugh.

“Thank you, Justin,” he finally said.

“Don’t mention it. Just maybe remember this the next time _I’m_ in a relationship.”

Paul glanced at him. “Sorry.”

Straal handwaved it.

“Go to bed, Stamets. You’re not gonna help anyone in your current state. I’ll send you the revised code tomorrow.”

A smile twitched in the corner of Paul’s mouth.

“You’re just trying to steal my secrets.”

“Right, because I desperately need this jumbled mess of data. Talk to you tomorrow!”

“Good night, Straal.” And with that, the connection was cut.

After having the computer send a call over to the officer on duty for the next shift, Paul dragged himself up from his console and off to his quarters. Once he had crawled into his depressingly empty bed and settled under the covers, he reached for his PADD on the nightstand. He pondered for a few minutes, tempted to call Hugh and hear his voice, but he didn’t want to be too selfish and distract him from his work. Instead, he settled on sending him a voice message.

“Hi, honey. I hope your shift is going well. I, um, I just felt like talking to you, but obviously I never know if you’re busy, so… Um, anyway, my day was awful — well, wasn’t so great, I mean, our test jumps today didn’t go well, and Lorca’s mad at me, but what else is new, right? And I’m tired and exhausted, so Straal sent me to bed. Umm… I miss you. We should — we should talk again soon, I mean, maybe we should talk about — you know, about the _situation_. Probably, when I’m more awake than right now.” A beat. “Have a good night, and sleep well later when you get home. Um. I love you.”

There. Hugh would be able to listen to this whenever he had time in between his work. Paul sent it, put the PADD back, and curled up in his blanket again. He was wearing a “fresh” t-shirt Hugh had apparently dropped off on his bed before starting his shift today. He ignored the heat rising up in his cheeks and the embarrassment of feeling incredibly childish because being wrapped in Hugh’s scent was far too comforting to bring himself to feel too bad about it.

Eventually, exhaustion won the battle over worry and he drifted off into a still restless sleep.

* * *

**Personal log, day 13**

Paul’s shift the following day went slightly better. Straal’s revisions to his code looked promising, and he managed to work out a few more issues, his head a little clearer now than it had been the night before, so hopefully their next scheduled test jumps would go better. Thankfully Lorca didn’t show up all day, either.

He hadn’t gotten the chance to see Hugh yet, and there had been no response from him to Paul’s message from last night. He tried not to think too much of it, but it remained in the back of his mind all day.

The day may not have been as stressful as the previous one, but work still kept him busy the whole time. Before long he realized that it was almost time for his shift to end, but a glance at the pile of work that was still waiting for him made him sigh and hang his head in defeat. He reached for his PADD and typed a quick message for Hugh to let him know that he would be home late tonight, then went back to work. Maybe ten minutes later, he was interrupted by a comm announcement.

“_Lieutenant Stamets, please report to deck 7, room OL-3 immediately_,” said the computer’s voice.

Paul’s face scrunched up in confusion. What was that about? Whoever wanted to see him for whatever reason, it couldn’t be good. He eyed his work screen sadly; it looked like his night was going to get a whole lot longer. He gave a few instructions to his team and then went on his way.

***

To his great surprise, OL-3 turned out to be not an office or a conference room, but rather a small, private observation lounge, with wide floor-to-ceiling windows taking up the entire wall and offering a breathtaking view of the space outside. An even greater surprise was the person waiting for him.

“Hugh?!”

He greeted Paul with a broad smile.

“Hey, darling.”

Paul crossed the room, stunned silent for the moment, taking in what Hugh had prepared: A dinner for two was sitting ready on the low table, in a fashion reminiscent of an — arguably very romantic — picnic. There were no candles, but the lighting in the room provided an adequate substitute and didn’t impair the stunning view outside the windows. The sofa facing them was equipped with little pillows and a blanket and looked incredibly cozy.

“Well, that’s a surprise,” Paul said once he found his voice again.

“Do you like it?” Hugh was still smiling, but there was an insecure undertone in his question and in his eyes.

“I’m delighted.” Paul sat down.

“Good. I’m glad you could make time for it.” The grin turned a little mischievous.

“Wait — did you abuse your authority and use the official comm channel to lure me into a private date during my shift?”

“Maybe.”

Hugh leaned over and kissed him, slowly, soft but with determination, and Paul let himself get swept away by him, by the atmosphere, by the moment of peace that was only for them. They hadn’t gotten the chance for a lot of actual dates yet, but this might be his favorite one so far. Certainly the one that felt the most classically romantic.

“Let’s eat something,” Hugh finally said, pulled back a little, but remained close. “I’m hungry, and I bet you are, too.”

“So,” Paul began after Hugh handed him his plate and reached for his own, “how did I earn this lovely surprise date with my fantastic boyfriend?”

“I wanted to do something nice for you. You’ve been under so much stress lately, and I’m sure it’s not easy for you to adjust to the new situation with Starfleet and… well, and you said last night that you wanted to talk. And I wanted us to have some space and time for that.”

Paul leaned back and looked out the window, trying to find his words. He’d already spent a lot of time trying to figure out what he wanted to say to Hugh, how he wanted to say it. He hadn’t been very successful so far, but now that the time had come, maybe he’d have more luck.

“Sorry for piling all of my issues on you the other day.”

“It’s okay. I know all of this can’t be easy for you. And… thank you again, too. For the other things you said. I really needed to hear that.”

Paul smiled weakly.

“I meant it. I still mean it. But the truth is… I probably sounded a lot more confident than I am. I have no idea how to deal with all of this.”

“Me neither.” Hugh was silent for a bit, seemingly lost in thoughts. “Paul, can we talk openly? Be honest? Because that’s what we agreed on, right? And I can see that you’re not telling me everything that’s bothering you.”

His eyes were fixed on Paul, intent, questioning. Slowly, Paul nodded.

“Okay. But… I’m not sure how to say it without… ruining everything.”

Hugh reached over and lightly rubbed his arm. He tended to do that, Paul had noticed, when he wanted to comfort him. He felt a bit of the tension seep out of his body.

“Then I’ll start: I’m not happy with our current arrangement. I thought this might work out for us, being on the ship together, but it didn’t. Then I thought I could go back to sleeping alone, but now I still lie awake each night because I miss you, and I just think about how you’re alone and miserable the whole time.” He hesitated, bit his lip. “I’m starting to regret coming here in the first place because I’m hurting you and I’m afraid of ruining our relationship. But then I remember that the alternative would have been leaving you here alone while I’m lightyears away, and that would be even worse.”

Paul watched him in silence, processing his words, while Hugh started chewing his food with little motivation. Hugh didn’t seem to blame him, and it sounded like he really wanted to be with Paul, like he wanted their relationship to work. Which shouldn’t be a surprise, really, because in theory he knew all of that, of course. Hearing it said out loud was still nice, though.

“I didn’t realize it affected you this much as well.”

Hugh grinned.

“You have a lot of effects on me, you know, the vast majority of which are positive.”

Paul couldn’t help but smile back.

“I was — I _am_ afraid of being too needy. Turning this into a decision between your well-being or mine. I’m mad at myself for not being able to deal with this better. I’ve been so happy being with you this far, but now I’m so scared that we’re… failing or something. That it might not work out. I want to try everything in my power, every compromise, to make it work. But I have no idea _what_ we could do.”

Hugh wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

“You’re not being needier than I am. And you’re allowed to be. It’s not asking too much wanting to be close. Hell, _I_ want to cuddle with you every night, too, and fall asleep in your arms. I want to wake up and see you still with bed hair and hear your voice when it’s rough from sleep. I’ve gone without those things for all those years and I’ve had enough of that. And if that means I’ll never sleep another night, then I don’t care anymore. So if one of us is being needy and selfish in this situation, it’s me.”

At first, Paul didn’t know what to say. Emotions were whirling inside of him, making his head spin a little. He kissed Hugh, softly, pulled him into a tight hug, hoping to convey his feelings in a language with a vocabulary more suited to expressing them. Then he rested his forehead against Hugh’s.

“That’s really not healthy, though,” he said, trying to lighten the mood and bring the conversation back to a level that his rational brain could work with. “I hope you’re not gambling on getting so sleep-deprived that you just pass out eventually?”

Hugh giggled, but didn’t respond.

“We need to find some kind of middle ground, long-term.”

“I know, but… can we just try again tonight? Please?”

Paul hesitated, then sighed.

“Okay.”

* * *

**Personal log, day 14**

The minute Paul opened his eyes and saw Hugh sitting up next to him and leaned against the headboard, he knew that it hadn’t worked. When Hugh noticed that he was awake, a smile lit up his face, but it looked tired, and there were exhausted, dark circles under his eyes.

“Good morning, love.”

“It didn’t work, did it?”

Hugh sighed.

“No.”

Paul buried his face in his pillow.

“Fuck.”

“Hey.” Hugh chuckled. “Language.”

Apparently, the pillow was insufficient for muffling his frustration. He lifted his head.

“I’m sorry. Good morning.”

Hugh just smiled and leaned over to kiss him. His hand found its way into Paul’s hair and he wanted to melt into the touch.

***

“So that was another failed attempt then,” he said later, his head rested on Hugh’s chest while Hugh was still carding his fingers through Paul’s hair. He tried to force his voice not to sound as resigned as he was feeling. “What else haven’t we tried yet?”

“I don’t know… Maybe if we take turns sleeping? But then we’d see even less of each other all day…” Hugh sighed. He sounded tired and defeated and it was breaking Paul’s heart. “I just wanna share the bed with my boyfriend like a _normal_ person. Is that too much to ask?”

Paul lifted himself up and turned around to face him.

“Don’t… Hugh, don’t be so hard on yourself. Shit, I wish I could do something — anything — about this. But even if we don’t find a solution, I want to be with you. You’re my favorite person I’ve ever met, and I want you in my life, permanently. Even if the sleeping doesn’t get better, it’s only one small issue. I can handle that, if you want that, too. It’s… It’s not about sharing a bed. It’s about sharing a life.” Whether he was trying to convince Hugh or himself, he couldn’t tell. Either way, it made Hugh smile again, so that seemed like a small success at least.

“You’re too good for me, Paul Stamets.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s my line, Doc.”

Hugh seemed to ponder something for a moment.

“What if… No, that’s probably not a good idea…”

“What is it?”

“We go to bed in your quarters, and I wait until you’ve fallen asleep, and then I return to mine and sleep there.”

“You’d still be alone, though.”

“I know. But at least I’d know that you’re sleeping, so that would put my mind at ease a bit.”

Paul looked at him, not really convinced.

“Okay. If you really want to, we can try that.”

* * *

**Personal log, day 15**

Paul blinked his eyes open while his brain booted up and slowly started processing the situation. A turn of his head to the other side of the bed revealed Hugh, wrapped in his arms, smiling at him but looking awfully tired.

“Hugh?”

He blinked a few more times as he remembered the plan they had come up with the day before.

“Are you supposed to be here…?”

“I…” Hugh looked away sheepishly. He cleared his throat. “Sorry, Paul. I’m weak. You fell asleep snuggled up to me and you were so cute and warm and… I couldn’t bring myself to leave. So I stayed.” He gave him a nervous little smile.

Paul’s heart had no business warming up this much. Hugh was calling him cute and smiling at him like that and refusing to let him sleep alone, but he also did all these things to the detriment of his own health and that was bad. He sighed.

“No more experiments. This obviously isn’t working either.” He tried to sound matter-of-fact and not give Hugh room to argue again. “You definitely need to get your sleep tonight, so I’ll leave when it’s time for bed.”

He tried his best to keep his expression firm despite the disappointment on Hugh’s face as he nodded.

***

After almost two hours of doing nothing but making out on the bed in their old — now Hugh’s — quarters, they were both sitting side by side with their backs resting against the headboard, trying to delay the moment they’d have to part.

“Do you think we can ever get used to this?” Paul asked, too exhausted by the whole issue after more than two weeks to keep his strong façade up any longer.

“I don’t know. I wish we didn’t have to.”

“Has it impeded your relationships in the past?”

“I’d say it’s been a contributing factor to the end of every relationship I’ve been in, but I could be wrong.”

“Really?”

“Most people take it personally after a while. They think I subconsciously have something against them or something like that. Or get offended that I can’t just flip a switch and make the issue disappear.”

Paul noticed the hint of bitterness in Hugh’s features and his voice.

“That sounds cruel.”

Hugh’s expression told him everything he needed to know. Paul bit his lip.

“Thank you, by the way,” Hugh said.

“For what?”

“For sticking with me. For not backing off. For not trying to make it about you.”

“Well…” Paul began. “The biggest contributing factor to the end of all of my previous relationships was me, or so I’ve been told. So, I’ve been trying to be better, for us, for you. Though if you asked me, I’d still say it was more likely the insistence on sex that ruined them. So… thanks, again, for being mindful of my comfort zone.”

“Of course. Don’t worry about that.”

Hugh chuckled slightly as he intertwined their fingers between them on the bed.

“We’re both some pretty big messes, aren’t we?”

“Probably. I’d say moderately sized, maybe. But our messes look good together.”

They looked at each other for a moment and then burst into laughter, not sure why themselves. After they’d caught their breaths, and a few more long moments of companionable silence, Paul said, “I don't want to leave.”

Hugh looked at him sadly.

“I don't want you to leave, either.”

Paul leaned over to kiss Hugh, then got up and said, “Good night,” as his responsible side took control of his body, and Paul hated that side, wanted to fight him, to kick him out for what he was doing, no matter how well he knew that it was what he had to do.


	5. Chapter 5

**Personal log, day 16**

“I hate Starfleet.”

Paul let his head slump against the wall behind him and exhaled deeply.

“I thought you like exploring other planets?”

“Not like this,” Paul responded while he took off his tactical vest. “Not with death and danger and—” he dropped the vest on the floor unceremoniously and started pulling off his worn and dirty uniform boots — “toxic alien sludge.”

Hugh stepped close and traced his fingers along Paul’s cheek, eyeing him with concern.

“Are you okay, love? How do you feel?”

It wasn’t a doctor’s question.

“I’m fine,” Paul said. “A little shaken, but I’ll manage.”

Hugh kissed his forehead.

“Let me know if you need anything.”

Paul responded with a silent nod. Hugh smiled a little.

“Alright. The entire landing party got the day off tomorrow, so how about we both take a shower and then snuggle up and watch a movie together tonight?”

“That sounds nice.”

***

It was Hugh’s turn to choose for movie night, and he picked some ancient period piece television series that he loved. Paul’s mind was still too scattered after the events of the day’s mission to care much about what they were watching. Rather than huddling up on the fairly small couch, they had settled down against the headboard of the bed in Paul’s new quarters, with synthesized hot chocolate and plenty of blankets and extra pillows. Paul tried to relax in Hugh’s arms and pull his thoughts away from the memories of the day; the investigation of a moon with unusual scanner readings that their party of six, including him and Hugh, had beamed down to in order to get a better look at what was going on, and from which only four had returned. Hugh had saved Paul’s life down there, grabbed him and pulled him out of harm’s way just barely in time. Paul squeezed his eyes shut, until the image of their two less fortunate crewmates being dragged into the dark depths of the swamp faded from his mind.

He shivered involuntarily, and Hugh wordlessly pulled him a little closer, rubbing calming circles into his forearm with his thumb. His pulse started to even out again and the constricted feeling in his throat loosened. He tried to pay attention as Lizzy struggled for words to decline Darcy’s request for a dance, but soon exhaustion made his eyelids grow too heavy to keep them open any longer.

***

Paul jolted awake in the darkened room, low ambient lighting and the closing credits of their movie rolling across the screen the only light sources. He rubbed his eyes and tried to assess the situation.

Both of them must have slid down the headboard, or maybe only he had, and Hugh had followed suit so he could keep his arms wrapped around him…

Paul carefully turned around, his face taking on an apologetic expression, but it fell apart when he saw Hugh. His eyes were closed, his breathing slow and even, and he was snoring just a tiny bit. Paul immediately felt his heart make several excited flips inside his chest at the sight, then the full realization started to sink in.

Hugh was sleeping. With his arms wrapped around Paul. He had fallen asleep despite Paul being here. _How?_ Paul didn’t dare move a muscle so as not to wake him up. Maybe it was the exhaustion from the stress of the past day. It had been Paul’s first mission off-ship; the first time he and Hugh had to work together, and put themselves in the line of danger. He had tried not to show it, but Paul had been able to tell how nervous and worried he had been.

Then Hugh stirred, drew a deep breath, but his eyes remained closed. Paul glanced at the clock on his nightstand. He must have slept for about three hours, but he had no way of telling when Hugh had fallen asleep. Maybe it was best if he left, so Hugh could rest. He would have to return to their old quarters instead this time.

As quietly and carefully as possible, he tried to worm out of Hugh’s grasp without waking him in the process — but then Hugh grunted, pulled him closer into his arms and muttered, “No. Stay.”

Paul glanced at him and exhaled quietly. He hadn’t even opened his eyes, but still, there was resolution on his face now. Paul smiled and whispered, “Okay.”

So he stayed, and eventually fell back asleep.

* * *

**Personal log, day 17**

When Hugh awoke, his shifting and moving around woke Paul next to him as well. He blinked a few times until Hugh came into focus, and he still looked a little sleepy, but other than that, he seemed more well-rested than Paul had ever seen him before when they had shared a bed.

While Hugh sat up and stretched, Paul let out a heartfelt yawn and scrambled out from under his blankets far enough to check the time on his PADD. 0604. Still an inhumane time to wake up on a day off, but he was grateful that Hugh had been able to catch some sleep at all. He slowly rolled over onto his back again and peeled his cocoon of blankets back a bit further. Sleeping wrapped up in all of them had left him feeling a little too warm for comfort now. He glanced up at Hugh, who was smiling brightly.

“Good morning, sunshine.”

“Good morning yourself, mushroom.”

“So… how was your night?”

Hugh squinted his eyes shut as he did his last few stretching movements that made one or two joints crack.

“Amazing.”

Paul raised both eyebrows, watching him expectantly, waiting for more.

When Hugh had finished shaking off his sleepiness, he continued, “I got some rest, it seems.” With the brightest grin in the galaxy he added, “With you.”

Paul couldn’t help the way his own face lit up. “It worked? Really?”

“I woke a few times, but I guess I was tired enough to go back to sleep.” Hugh’s expression turned thoughtful. “So… what does that mean, now, for… for us?”

Paul tried to rein in his excitement. “It’s… a first, small success. Maybe we were just really exhausted after yesterday’s events.”

“I know I was. Doesn’t mean you’re allowed to put your life in danger every day now just so I can get some sleep, because then I’ll just die of a heart attack instead.”

“That’s unacceptable,” he replied and wrapped his arms around Hugh from the side. “You’re not allowed to have a heart attack before I do. I’ve got such a head start on you on that front.”

Hugh raised his eyebrows.

“Well, you’re not allowed to have one either. Doctor’s orders.”

Paul pulled himself closer to Hugh and kissed him, then rested his head on his shoulder.

“So what do we do now?”

“I was thinking morning run and then breakfast, but if you have any suggestions for staying in bed…”

Paul looked up and playfully nudged his side.

“I’m talking about the sleeping situation, genius.”

Hugh laughed.

“I don’t know. I doubt it just disappeared overnight. I’m rarely that lucky.”

“So we just keep trying?” Paul suggested. “Hope that you get used to it with time? And on the nights when it doesn’t work, we separate again, for now. You know, baby steps.”

Hugh didn’t look as excited as earlier, and still didn’t seem fully convinced, but he nodded slowly. “That might work.” He drew Paul closer until their foreheads touched. “You’re very comfy for cuddling and sleeping, I don’t want to give that up.”

* * *

**Personal log, day x**

_We did it! No more safety net, no more spare room. It took a while to get there, and a lot of steps forward and steps back, but this really feels like passing the final test. Yesterday we officially signed the second room off to Commander Saru again and last night was the first night without it. We haven’t needed it in weeks and Hugh said it was time, that he was ready. And, wow, he is. I think he’s living his best life now, trying to make up for the years of sleepy cuddles he missed. (Chuckles.) I — I love him so much. I really need to tell him more often, huh? _

_Tomorrow’s gonna be hell again, I know it. Lorca was really pissed today that our last test jump almost ended in disaster. Again. To make things worse, I’ve been informed that we picked up a stranded shuttle today and he’s assigned some random new person from it to my lab for tomorrow. This guy just refuses to ever leave me alone and let me do my work in peace. I hope he’s going to have a painful — (Takes a deep breath.) _

_Never mind. Hugh is here. What more could I ask for?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so we have reached the end. Thank you for reading and sticking with this story! <3

**Author's Note:**

> As always, thank you so much to everyone who leaves lovely and supportive comments on my fics! Even if I usually don't know how to adequately respond to them, please be assured that they make me super happy and brighten my day! <3


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